Do you have a word of the year? Around New Year’s, when everyone was posting about their top 9 photos from 2018 and resolutions/goals for 2019, I was also seeing posts about finding your ‘word of the year’. One friend even linked DaySpring’s quiz so that you could discover your own word for 2019.

Like any curious person, of course I took the quiz myself and discovered my word for 2019 is ‘Peace’. In the moment I thought that was an odd word, and being unhappy about my result, I attempted to take the quiz again. I even changed up some of my answers {just call me sneaky}. And guess what?I got the SAME result. hmmm.Now feeling like this was providence and not just randomness, I decided to embrace the word and try to understand why peace would be my word for 2019.

Fast forward to yesterday morning, after having dropped off my oldest child at school, I was driving away listening to a local Christian radio station. The morning show team was discussing their word of the year and as I thought on the conversation, I went back to my word: Peace.

Why had that word been chosen for me? I certainly believe it was chosen for me. I obviously didn’t pick it – I wanted to change it. I probably would have picked some other fun word like joy or gratitude, but this word – Peace – was for me.

Peace.

Some of the definitions of this mysterious word, according to Merriam-Webster are:*a state of tranquility or quiet*freedom from disquieting or oppressive thoughts or emotions*harmony in personal relations*in a state of concord or tranquility

Not that I have come to some sort of extensive realization about my life + peace, but there are some things that have gained clarity for me in this second month of this new year…

I have been lacking peace. Genuine peace.There’s been a lot of turmoil in my personal life…relationships that have been frazzled and torn, especially over the past year.My spirit has been downcast and and troubled for some time, and I think I’ve tried to suppress it with filling my time with stuff/keeping busy.Also, a lot of changes swept into my world last year, in a very short period of time, causing much restlessness and sadness.

So, yes, there is a great need for peace in my life. Peace that passes ALL understanding, and the lack thereof as well.In looking at the definitions of peace, my life has been the complete opposite of those words so I can more clearly now see WHY peace may have been chosen for me.

Yesterday morning after I got back home and was pondering peace, I looked the word up on Biblegateway.com…what were some verses that could point me closer to finding peace?There are a lot. ha. The Lord does not lack talking about or showing peace, throughout the scriptures. One verse in Romans in particular stands out to me: May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Romans 15:13.

Dear friend, if you are like me, and lacking in peace today, may you cling to this verse as I am. Let us be filled with hope, joy and peace as we trust in Him, the author and perfecter of our faith (Heb. 12:2). Until next time…

(Reader’s note: this was written originally last Monday, 6/26…but this is how long it takes me to finish things these days… ☹)

I always think it’s funny when something happens by “coincidence”.
I just happened to forget I wasn’t supposed to take a lunch today, and ran an errand to Trader Joe’s. Then I happened to run home to drop off all my goods, etc. and strolled around my house to see what the cleaning lady did while she was there this morning (it’s always fun to see how she reorganizes things!!).
Then I happened to get a notification that a sweet girl, that I’ve known from way-back-when, Jess Connolly, was doing a live video on Instagram.
And I happened to turn on my car’s blue tooth so I could listen in on her little video.

Jess’ husband worked in my office, what seems like, a million years ago. Back when he was this sweet guy dreaming of marrying this gorgeous gal named Jess.
Dreams do come true.

They have an amazing ministry…she’s killing it all over the place – praise be to Jesus alone, I know she would say.

So here I was in my car listening to her pouring out her heart about being “Expectant” about all things Jesus…which includes us as fallen humans and how we can be expectant to still need him and she said this one thing that I repeated over and over in my head until I got to a stop light and could email it to myself so I didn’t forget!
“What if..you still needed Jesus?”
She was recalling a conversation she had with a dear friend of hers from the other day, about all these things we plan out and set out as goals etc. And she said something like, But what if, at the end of all the planning and goal-setting that we still needed Jesus.
I sat there thinking, that’s mind-boggling to me. We DO need Jesus. But do we admit that in the every minute – every day?

What if, in your every day, everything, you still needed Jesus.
Instead of thinking, I’ve got this. I’ve got all these things to do in XXX time, or whatever, what if you still needed Jesus.
What about this moment, this day, this week…would be different?
What if you acknowledged that you still NEEDED Jesus. Needed Him like you need breath. Every moment of every hour.
“As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God.” The Psalmist says (Ps. 42:1).
What if that were true.
How would your thoughts be different.
How would your words be different.
How would your heart be different.

How would your hopes be different.
How would your perspective change.
Would you have more peace?
Would you have more joy?
Would you lay all the burdens down at the Savior’s feet and leave them there?
Would you, like Mary, sit. Still and quiet and wait to hear from Him?
Would you keep rushing around like Martha, trying to get all the things done, while harboring an attitude against those you love?
Would you still be holding that grudge against that friend that hurt you so many years ago?

I think it’s so easy for us to just get up every morning and get going that we forget we need him. I need him to be joyful. I need him to have grace and strength and patience with my kids, my husband and myself even. I need him to be KIND. I am a sinner. I am not even remotely in the same solar system as perfect, and therefore, I need Jesus. To be more like him so that others might slightly like me.

What if, you and I went to bed tonight resting in Jesus. Needing him.
What if, tomorrow morning, when we woke up, instead of grabbing the phone to see how many likes or messages we got during the middle of the night, or doing whatever thing you do when you first wake up…we said, “Hey Jesus. I need you. I NEED.You.”
And then we waited to hear from him.

What if we did that? I wonder how tomorrow might be different.

Something to think about on a Sunday night. Hugs for a sweet bedtime…hopefully the fireworks where you are aren’t too loud tonight…

This picture makes me laugh so hard. I got up at 5 a.m. to feed Emory Easter morning and this is what I saw leaving our bedroom. Kids so exhausted asleep he has no idea that his foot is on her face, and she doesn’t even care. When we showed Reynolds this photo later in the day, he belly-laughed out loud!

Easter morning at church…

The cross at Dad’s church was really beautiful, but the sun was incredibly bright! We all needed some shades!

Sweet PopPop in his new dapper blazer! {I love Eliza Jane’s hand wrapped around is arm}

Our precious neighbor from my child-hood home…

Two of my Momma’s dearest and closest friends <3

A proud PopPop with all his grandbabies. {My heart is a pool on the floor around me…I just adore this picture so much}

I love all of this. And know Grammy is smiling down on all of us.

You know it’s a good weekend when less than 5 minutes into the drive, the big one is out cold.

“Let them praise the LORD for his great love and for the wonderful things he has done for them.” Psalm 107:31 He has been so good to us and for that we praise and give thanks to Him.

As you reflect back on your Easter weekend – I hope and pray it was as filled with joy and laughter as ours was.

This weekend we had the most wonderful time in Macon with my precious Daddy, my brother and his sweet family.

Friday evening I shot my sister in law a text asking if she was making a Grammy cake, to which she replied that she wasn’t. I had every intention of making one Friday night, except that my kids were insanely wild and wouldn’t go to sleep, so I had to go to bed with them…and the cake didn’t get made.

So Saturday evening, after a day of great fun, Easter egg hunts, dyeing eggs and supper with family and friends, it was time to make Grammy’s cake.

Now let me first start off by saying that I had cooked a bit on Saturday, getting ready for Easter lunch, and had wrestled with my emotions and silently whispering to my mom that I wish so badly that she were here. Here to see her precious grandbabies running around in the backyard, laughing and playing. Her son and son-in-law racing those crazy babies, and having their own great fun throwing balls at each other and pegging PopPop many times too! So much, that in my heart and mind, she is missing out on, and that I so desperately wanted her to be a part of. But I have to trust that she is among us. And remind myself that where she is, is the most glorious of places.

Back to the cake. My sister-in-law, Joey sat at the kitchen table as I was pulling things together and re-reading the recipe for this delicious cake my mom made a staple in her kitchen. We were chatting about the recipe, the butter and sugar were beating nicely in the mixer….and I reread the flour information.

My mom was one of those ladies that had her sugar, tea and flour on the kitchen counter. Things she used every day because she cooked every day for as long as I can remember. Only my mom didn’t just have one canister of flour, she had two. One for All Purpose, and one for Self-Rising. Well, if you are a cake-baker, you know that All Purpose flour is the “cake flour” one might use in a recipe. {I personally use Swan’s Down Cake Flour}

So my mom, lovely lady she was, knew the difference between her flours. I felt somewhat perplexed as to which one I was supposed to use and as Joey and I chatted I looked inside one container and saw

Okay, so this one must be the Self-Rising Flour…NOT the one I want to use.

I dumped heaping scoops of the other flour into my measuring cup until I had 3 cups, and slowly added it to my batter.

I poured it into a perfectly greased bundt pan and placed it in my Dad’s {NEW} oven.

Somewhere close to 9 p.m. I said to my Dad that at 9:20 it would be an hour….I was going to go take a shower.

About mid-way into my shower there was a knock on the door {question: when you get a knock on the shower door, do you ever get nervous? I do. My quiet time has been interrupted by a seemingly urgent situation. And my mind starts racing…What has happened?!}

Andrew opens the door and asks how long the cake has been in, stating that “…it smells like something is burning, so we’re going to check it…”

I shaved my legs as fast as I could. Then had a slight panic and envisioned the house burning down, and how there is no window in the bathroom and how was I going to escape!!! Seriously. HOW IS THERE NO WINDOW IN THIS BATHROOM! My family is standing in the back yard screaming and praying that I can somehow make it out of this brick prison while the house is engulfed in flames.

I turned off the water and opened the shower room door, there was no smoke. There was a faint smell of something burning, but no billowing clouds of death. I am the most ridiculous person I know.

I put on my pajamas and walked down the hall wondering why there was such a stink of burn in the air. I opened the den door and asked if the cake was ok. Apparently that was a really good joke, because everyone laughed.

The cake was overflowing…like one of those volcano projects you did in elementary school.

What the heck.

Flour talk ensued in the kitchen and I told my dad which one I used and he laughed. “THAT is the Self-Rising flour” he said of the one I pointed to when he asked which one I used.

“Well, THIS one has this paper in it that SAYS Self-RISING!!!!”

“Hey. Your mom was left-handed and did funny things.”

WHAT. WHAT?! WHAT. WHY.

“So, like, she tricked her self, and everyone else including me?! What is this?” As we laughed about the quirky things my mom did all throughout her life.

Why would she do this. Why would there be a piece of paper in the ALL PURPOSE flour that said Self-Rising?

Dad pulled it out and said, “Well, this tells her how to make self-rising flour out of all-purpose flour.”

“Because she did that a lot….” I said flatly. Both canisters were almost always filled to the brim.

As we all laughed about this mis-hap, we enjoyed the fact that she must be with us. And hopefully she’s laughing at me, at us, as we stood there in the kitchen with the box fan and hood vent on high, pondering whether or not to take the volcano eruption out of the oven and just start fresh tomorrow, or let it bake and eat the dilapidated thing.

We called it. As Andrew made the decision and “shattered my every dream” he grabbed the pot-holders, Joey opened the back door, and out he went with the fallen, pan-filled goodness.

Dad then made two trips out with the racks that had charred cake batter on them and in the bottom of the oven lay a heap of black batter sadness.

Sorry about your new oven, Dad…and even more sorry about the cake…

But the cake I made this morning was just as wonderful as I remember. Thanks for being with us, mom – you little trixter…you sure are missed.

And to be sure she never gets us again by her “left-brain” silliness, Dad and I labeled the one that was All-Purpose flour…{you have to watch the “left-brain” video to really get it about left-handed people!”

Oh my gracious! Y’all! I blinked and another week has flown by and I’m standing here like, how did three weeks just breeze past me?!

Anyone else feel the same way?!

I’ve so been meaning to share some sweet pictures with you from the weekend Emory was dedicated. My best friend and roommate from college, Ann, along with her two oldest kiddos came over from GA {a 5 hr drive mind you!} and my sweet daddy was here.

That Saturday we spent some time at the zoo…where I managed to snap a few pics. First of Ann with her kiddos checking out the penguins {WHY does it smell SO BAD in there?!}

Then we hung out watching the grizzly bears wrestle…

Eliza Jane was imitating a giraffe here I think ;)

The feeding of the goats never gets old…for kids or adults!

So here’s a funny story I’m remembering from that Saturday. We thought we’d be so smart and go to Dave and Busters on OPENING weekend – at 5:30. Y’all. They had a THREE HOUR wait for a table. Hello? Nothankyou. We went to our favorite local Mexican restaurant for cheese dip and quesadillas instead.

On Sunday I was so delighted that we got to have professional pictures taken by a fellow Sunday School friend – Robin Huber Photography.

You can’t really tell, but my bracelet {on the wrist sort of under Emory ↑} is a tribute to my Momma. Thanks to a good friend who sells KEEPI have several charms that remind me of her.

Then there were these from the service…and please look at that precious {hilarious!} look on Emory’s face!

One of my favorite pictures from the day is this one that Andrew snapped of me and our little man as we waited for the service to begin. His face is just too sweet for words!

My prayer for Emory, as well as Reynolds and Eliza Jane, is that they come to know the Jesus I know. He’s more than just a man in a story. He saved my soul. He’s been the lifter of my face on many a cloudy day. He reminds me that I am a child of the living God. And not to be cheesy, but lets just be honest: I am kind of cheesy…, this song is my jam.

Once again I’m so thankful for friends and family who came to celebrate this special day with us. It meant more to us than I can ever tell any of you.

It’s 8:09 p.m. Sunday night as I start this post. It’s been a month since I last wrote to you all, and it seems like that was yesterday. Or maybe the day before yesterday, but certainly not four-plus weeks ago.

As I was sitting in the living room this afternoon talking with a good friend that we refer to as Grammy Carolyn, she said, “Well, you must be busy because you haven’t been writing…”

I started thinking about that word: Busy. We say it a lot at my workplace and it has sort of lost its meaning for me.

The dictionary states that busy as an adjective means: having a great deal to do.

I have an overwhelming amount to do most days. I know this won’t compare to some people, but I did six loads of laundry last Saturday. That’s after having done laundry thru the week. I don’t save it up. How did I have enough for SIX loads of laundry? And then believe it or not, by the following Monday I had another load in the wash. And that’s just the laundry.

Busy.

I have three babies. All under the age of four. Some of you are in that boat. Some of you may wish you were in that boat and some of you are glad you are out of that boat!

We are busy laughing and playing and learning and enjoying this thing call life.

Today Emory was dedicated in our church service.

As I was thinking about him and his dedication, my biggest prayer for him, after the prayer of him coming to know the Lord Jesus Christ as his Savior one day, is that he loves and lives his life to the fullest.

I hope that he is full of the joy and happiness that his sweet face radiates each and every day currently. And I hope that he is a joy to those who know him.

So as I sit here at 8:21 now, thinking back on all the wildness that this crazy, busy weekend has entailed…I hope to share it all with y’all in the coming days. And that I’m not so busy that I can’t sit down, before another four weeks pass, and tell y’all about all the great things going on in our home and in our world.

I have found myself in this weird conundrum of sadness and joy over the last few weeks since Mom died.

Even saying that word seems so wrong and confusing and somehow not what I should be saying about her.

I was sitting with a sweet group of girls this morning having a little prayer time and one friend was praying for this man who has MS and is on hospice currently. He is a believer and so there is this hope that possibly soon he will be out of his pain, and made new again.

In my friend’s prayer for this man she said that Jesus has overcome death and I immediately thought of the verse that questions where death’s sting is: Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? – 1 Corinthians 15:55

Then I started thinking about my conundrum.

My joy comes from the fact that death has no victory over my mom. Over me, over us.

She has the victory because she now HAS JESUS.

There is no sting. Yes there is this great sadness of things that will be missed with her, of seeing her face, hearing her voice; of the birth of our son Emory in some five weeks’ time and the joy that she would have brought with her upon seeing him the first time. So many things that are missed about her. But there is this great, immeasurable joy of knowing she is with our Savior and yes, I will one day see her beautiful, beloved face again.

So while it seems weird to me that maybe I’m not as sad as I should be, and even in the saddest of moments, and yes there have been many of those…I have to rejoice because she’s where we all want to be one day, beholding the Creator and Savior of the world.

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